... an art, like everything else

My only friend, the end.

2006-01-12T21:36:00.000+08:00

Before I go, I thought I would put you all out of the misery you must have been living in, wondering from where the title '... an art, like everything else', as well as my web pseudonym, Esther Greenwood, came.

Contrary to the whole spirit of this blog, which veers between the stupid and the inane, its titular inspiration was derived from my favourite poet, Sylvia Plath. The line is:

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

Dark! O yes. And Esther Greenwood is the name of the protagonist in Plath's only novel, The Bell Jar.

So, as a concession to my literary obsession (read: wankiness), I'm going to post the whole poem. It's a really unfitting end to the blog, which I guess makes it fitting.

Catcha over at Lists and Diagrams.

- A.

Lady Lazarus
by Sylvia Plath

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

I always thought that when I sold out it would at least be for a pushbike and a 6-pack of Pabst.

2006-01-11T01:03:00.000+08:00

Devoted ... an art, like everything else readers, I have been presented with a proposal that I feel duty-bound to share with the people.

Many of you are familiar with the reputable Lists and Diagrams blog, and the indomitable authorship of its helmsman, Captain Morgan. In fact, many of you are Captain Morgan, as I think my readership has pretty much evaporated.

Anyway, I have recently been invited to become a part of the Lists and Diagrams team. I initially resisted the offer, afraid of compromising my fearless reporting and impeccable ethics, and bowing down to the Man.

Then I realised that I've only really blogged about Spiderman's laundry for the last couple of months anyway, so what am I really trying to protect? Plus, he offered me 50% of the imaginary profits from this enterprise.

So I'm thinking about jumping ship (see how these maritime metaphors are working together? I'm a goddam Ernest Hemingway). Of course, I would never want to alienate my adoring fan, so if I get a deluge of messages imploring me to remain true and independent, I will turn my back on potential fame and fortune and c-list blogging status to serve the people. All cheques can be made out to 'cash'.

Bear in mind also that Piers won't let me post Napoleon Dynamite dancing GIFs or other such 'tacky' things.

Otherwise, this might, in fact, be the end of ... an art, like everything else as you know it.

It's been a gas, folks.

It's really too hot to do anything other than post dancing GIFs on your blog.

2006-01-07T13:42:00.000+08:00

A brief concession to democracy.

2006-01-03T02:03:00.000+08:00

What do you guys reckon - is it time for me to change the format of my blog?

Positives:
+ a bit of a change
+ photos hopefully won't bleed over the borders like they do now

Negatives:
- it requires effort
- I'll have to learn some html (see above)

But you know me, I'm all about the people, so let me know what you'd prefer to briefly glance at on your way to your daily porn fix. And then I'll just ignore you all and make an executive decision, as is my totalitarian wont.

****UPDATE****
I either have no readers, or my readers are incredibly apathetic. Either way, totally not worth my time changing squat.

New Year's resolutions I will NOT be making, contrary to the advice of the Boost Juice newsletter I just received in my inbox.

2006-01-01T22:54:00.000+08:00

Smile at least 20 times a day.
Do 10 star jumps every morning.
Hug my parents every time I see them.
Dress up as my favourite fruit tomorrow and grab a free boost juice.

Except I might do the last one; it couldn't be too hard. I could just wear an orange t-shirt and say I was an orange. Or a fuzzy brown jumper and say I was a kiwi fruit.

Or, to inspire what will no doubt be a heated debate, dress in black and go as an olive. But olive smoothie is not my cup of tea, ese.

You can't spell 'festivus' without 'us'. And 'festi'.

2005-12-24T00:38:00.000+08:00

Frank Costanza: Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way.

Cosmo Kramer: What happened to the doll?

Frank Costanza: It was destroyed. But out of that a new holiday was born . . . a Festivus for the rest of us!

Cosmo Kramer: That must've been some kind of doll.

Frank Costanza: She was.

Thank you, Piers, for the Best. Festivus. Ever.

My peeps are totally down with the lingo.

2005-12-13T10:27:00.000+08:00

Dad: Is she a skank?
Mum: What's a skank? Is it like a ho?
Dad: Yes.
Mum: Oh. Then, no.

I claim this meal in the name of Italy.

2005-12-05T16:46:00.000+08:00

Astro Chimp

2005-12-03T09:10:00.000+08:00

About a month or so ago, I was driving my brother to work, along Stirling Highway. The Church Gallery had a sign outside reading, enigmatically, tantalisingly, alluringly:

Lisa Roet
Astro Chimp

'Astro Chimp' is a bit like my 'cellar door'. (JRR Tolkein described 'cellar door' as one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language. ) Except, for me, it extends beyond the aesthetic beauty of the words alone to embody all hope and inspiration. 'Astro Chimp'.

In the following weeks I drove past that sign a dozen times, ambivalent about whether or not I should go in. On the one hand, the phrase 'Astro Chimp' itself is so enchanting that surely any attempt to live up to the wonder that resides within those words will inevitably fall short and thus diminish the phrase's power. On the other hand, what if it doesn't fall short? What if the visual representation of Astro Chimp lives up to its promise and more? And what if I missed that?

I eventually decided to be an optimist and go inside.

Update or perish!

2005-12-03T09:03:00.000+08:00

I know, I know. Anyone still out there? Just nod if you can hear me.

Laundry day for Spiderman

2005-11-08T07:59:00.000+08:00

The bastard put this in with some of my whites and turned them pink. You got yourself a new nemesis, Spidey.

'WANA Park Closer Asshole!'

2005-11-05T22:55:00.000+08:00

In Fremantle, last thursday, particularly rainy else I woulda picked this up to send to FOUND magazine.

If you can grow it. Flow it. Show it.

2005-11-03T08:45:00.000+08:00

I should have posted about this a couple of days ago, but there's still time to register and start growing a mo for Movember. Movember is a fundraising movement looking to raise awareness of men's health issues. During November, you register on this site and get people to sponsor your follicular action. Two birds with one mo - you raise money for a good cause and you look shit hot with facial hair. So throw those razors away, boys, and get hirsute!

Someone turn this nag into Clag already.

2005-11-01T20:29:00.000+08:00

Who woulda thunk it. Makybe Diva pulls off a hat trick, to mix the sport metaphors. And I'm the sucker with the bets on Distinction and Eye Popper.

I picked Eye Popper for his name (he pops eyes!) and because he is Japanese. For some reason, that put a funny picture in my head. Maybe I was picturing him with awesome hair and a love of manga. And I pick Distinction every year, because every year I figure it's good luck to pick him so close to my exams, and every year he loses. I don't know what that's supposed to mean.

So anyway, screw it. I didn't actually have enough cash this morning to be able to blow anything big. Plus, they give you CASH at Medicare. Cash, I tell you. This truly is the lucky country.

My fondest wish: to never meet any of these people.

2005-10-25T09:41:00.000+08:00

Oh, no. No no, no. I have discovered the Oprah.com Oprah's Wildest Dreams Bus messageboard. The concept, as far as I can pick it up, is that people send begging letters, emails, or videos to Oprah, and she rocks up at their house on a bus and gives them free stuff. This is a variation on a theme already shown to be successful on Oprah's birthday shows, Oprah's Christmas shows, and Oprah's 'Oprah for President' shows. But I think the problem now is that people have somehow developed a sense of entitlement completely in contrast to anything they actually deserve. I blame all that self-esteem 'You are special' bullshit that people were fed as the young children of baby boomers. The same stuff that's responsible for women wearing boob tubes and daisy dukes when they really daisy do- not look good.

So anyway, you have people asking for some little things, just wanting to not have college debt, etc. and some people asking for sucky things, like world peace and being 'able to help people'. And then you just have the fucktards. I shall serve as their megaphone and shout their words from the rooftop of my blog.

Wildest Dream
Posted by: joyray103
Posted on: 09/08/2005 at 4:14pm (6400 of 6505)

Oprah, I have a 5 year old Granddaughter, that really believe's she could be the next AMERICA'S TOP MODEL! She watch this show like a 20 year old model with alot of experence. As they walk, she walk, and they pose, she will also pose. If she could only meet Tara For some pointers, I believe someday, she will be America's Top Model. If not, I know she will be America's happiest 5 year old. Oprah, please help me make my Granddaugher happy

hey oprah my wildest dream
Posted by: greendaylover
Posted on: 09/06/2005 at 2:54pm (6391 of 6505)

oprah it would be really cool if i could meet billy joe armstrong because he is a idol to me he is such a good guitar player and i am a fan because i am trying to learn the guitar and i hope to be as good as him some day and i would be greatfull if u could let me meet him i am one of his biggest fans and i went to the concert in new england and green day was awsome. and i will love you forever because all i can think about is them and i would love to hang out with billy joe armstrong for a day.

my wildest dream
Posted by: bams1sweetheart
Posted on: 09/03/2005 at 9:00pm (6365 of 6505)

My only dream is too meet my 2 idols, you and steve-o. Hes on a show called wilboys.
please help me

Grandma asked me to do it!
Posted by: raawiya1
Posted on: 09/01/2005 at 7:27pm (6337 of 6505)

My grandma asked me to go to www.harpo.com for Oprah's Wildest Dreams. But there was no harpo.com. So I typed in Oprah.com. I didnt know I had to register to post a dream but I did b/c my grandma asked me. Well heres the note she gave me... She writes... The children in our neighborhood dont have a inground swimming pool and we need lights for our liitle league football field and a refreshment stand. Where the only township in Delaware County, Pa that doesn't have one.

Olive Crump

Grandson, Shavar Raawiya

I'll keep 'em coming.

He has spurs!

2005-10-24T22:55:00.000+08:00

My blog is pretty much just serving as a birthday register now.

2005-10-18T15:37:00.000+08:00

Three birthdays! I'm going to avoid obvious jokes here and just say 'happy birthday!' to Mish, Maddy and Fred. I can't seem to find any good pictures of Mish or Fred (good as in photo-quality, not as a slight on their photogenic presence), so I've got two pictures of Maddy and the first images that came up when I typed 'fred' and 'mishy' into Google Image Search.

Maddy sliding down the East Perth hill

Maddy getting ready to go out in -30 degree Celsius weather

'Mishy'

'Fred'

Happies!

Anywhere but here. Specifically, Paris.

2005-10-17T21:22:00.000+08:00

A coming of age.

2005-10-14T07:57:00.000+08:00

Doofus is 18. Happy Adulthood!

Not a cookie.

2005-10-13T00:22:00.000+08:00

Words that were mispronounced in my Introduction to Public International Law tutorial yesterday

2005-10-06T21:33:00.000+08:00

primacy
schism
coup
Alaina

It's unpleasantly like being drunk.

2005-10-06T16:18:00.000+08:00

Go here and type in 'the answer to life, the universe, and everything'.

Have you been lifting weights? Because it smells iron-y in here.

2005-10-05T00:36:00.000+08:00

My dad was at a conference today, and ran into a woman with whom he used to work. She seemed a bit upset, so he asked her what was wrong. Turns out her friend had just died in Bali.
"Was she in one of the restaurants where the bomb went off?" he asked.
"No, she died of a heart attack," she replied.

They're starting younger and younger these days.

2005-10-01T14:03:00.000+08:00

Mark Latham is a petulant little potty mouth.

2005-09-19T22:39:00.000+08:00

I can't believe I ever used to have respect for this man. I was mislead by my respect for Gough.

Can you say 'cop', Mr Latham? As in, 'You are wanted for questioning by the cops about a taxi driver-punching incident?' How about 'out'? As in, 'Let's get out of politics and poke everyone in the eye on the way?'

I have issues with the motives of people who release tell-alls after the fact anyway, and Latham has proven to be nothing more than a dummy spitter with a vindictive vendetta against anyone who ever gave him the stink eye. 'And your little dog, too! Heh heh heh.'

But what a guy is that Denton! "You've climbed the career ladder all the way to the top and buggered off to the attic"? He's the dude.

*** Ben Cousins has won the Lowbrow. And the crowd goes ... 'yeah, I was watching the Emmys.'

Age is but a number. A really big number.

2005-09-13T23:20:00.000+08:00

Happy 21st Claire! She's Jesus in the middle.

BRAS! BRAS! BRAS!

2005-09-11T22:47:00.000+08:00

I went to the Convention Centre this afternoon - big sales, big sales. (If you didn't get it, the title of this post is in reference to the irritating guy on the tv ads. Count your blessings.) Apart from the bras, they had a ridiculously large selection of books and CDs. I felt like I deserved to get my selection for free, just for having the tenacity to get through the whole thing. I ended up with:

Beck - Odelay
Jurassic 5 - Power in Numbers
The Libertines - self titled debut
Soundtrack to Standing in the Shadows of Motown
Metallica - S & M
DJ Shadow - The Private Press
The Hives - Tyrannosaurus Hives

plus a bunch of books. One hour left of the sale! Closes at midnight! Move quickly!

** Really not in the mood to talk about the significance of this date. My throat hurts from auditioning my own contribution to 'Australian Night' on Australian Idol (my choice was 'Thunderstruck'.)

Birthday birthday

2005-09-09T12:01:00.000+08:00

Birthday wishes for Piers, a day late because Doofus was hogging the computer.

Happy 21st! 'RAHHH!!!', indeed!

Ah, the humanity.

2005-09-07T23:31:00.000+08:00

I was driving home tonight down Lord St, around 10.30, when I saw a bus stopped on the other side of the road, between two lanes. As I slowed down and got closer, I realised there was an old man lying on the road in front of the bus. A few people were crouching down next to him as I stopped the car and got out to see what was going on. I thought the bus had hit the guy, but it seemed like he had been lying there a while. No blood on the road. He was talking, but not really coherently. Someone called an ambulance. Others started directing traffic around the guy, others (including me) went for blankets or just draped their coats over him.

Turns out he'd had a seizure or something (he had a medic alert bracelet) and had collapsed in the middle of the road. The ambulance arrived pretty quickly and bundled him up.

It's amazing how well people come together in situations like this. A few more people stopped to see if they could help, but no one crowded in or looked on tragedy-greedy-like. Just people wanting to be helpful and do all they could.

People are growing on me. Figuratively speaking.

I'll start writing actual blog entries again soon.

2005-09-02T15:28:00.000+08:00

Beach - Anna, Caz, Emily

This tree's been to a few too many self-esteem workshops.

2005-09-01T21:14:00.000+08:00

'I LOVE MYSELF'

Feets!

2005-08-31T10:38:00.000+08:00

Caz in Margaret River

Ki-lo, kilometrico

2005-08-30T19:09:00.000+08:00

I need a new pen. And some classes that are a little less boring.

Cough hack hack cough

2005-08-29T14:47:00.000+08:00

He's owned up to it, finally.

That's right, he's addicted to toast. Don't judge, people, remember - let he who is without complex carbohydrates cast the first butter pat.

Liberté toujours

2005-08-29T14:43:00.000+08:00

My pants spell out 'freedom'. Which is kind of appropriate, because they're too big.

"Will-and-fucking-Grace!"

2005-08-29T00:00:00.000+08:00

Funny night, oh funny. Movie with Liz and Matt, tedious director Q & A session ("Why do you think Australian directors have such hard-ons for gun play?"), then coffee at 130s. We'd been sitting there for a while, conversing on random topics, when a drunken guy, clearly just out of the Leedy, stumbled up to us.

From this point, I'm just going to give a sample of the dialogue that ensued, edited according to what I could decipher and what I can now remember:

Drunk Guy (hereafter "Moe", as in "Homophobe who is actually gay", or "Mo Money Mo Problems"), to Matt: Are you gay?
Matt: No.
Moe, squatting next to us, leaning on Liz, hiding from his friend: Shhhh, pretend I'm not here.
Liz: [resumes conversation with me]
Moe, to Matt (in fact, just assume that most of these comments are directed at Matt. Guy was clearly crushin'): Where are you from?
Matt: Perth. You?
Moe (displaying his pinkie finger): See this? See how small this is? I come from a small, small city. Guess.
Liz: Perth?
Me: Sydney?
Matt: Geraldton?
Moe: Geraldton! I love Geraldton. Geraldton is tops. I'm from Perth.
(Moe's friend comes over and tries to drag Moe away)
Moe: Mate! Come meet this crew! This guy's from Geraldton!
Matt: No, I'm not.
Moe (to me): You have great shoes.
Me: Thank you.
Moe: If I were gay, I'd tell you you had great shoes. You have great shoes. I'm not gay. (To Matt) Are you gay?
Matt: You already asked me that. No.
Moe's friend: Come on, let's go.
Moe: No! I want coff! Coff is cool! Tell him how cool coff is!
Moe's friend: I am so not friends with coffee right now. All I want to do is get home, smoke some spliffs and watch Trailer Park Boys.
Moe, ignoring friend: What's the best show?
Me: TV show?
Moe: DUH! And apart from The Simpsons, that's a given.
Me: The West Wing?
Moe: NO! Guess.
(blank stares.)
Moe: Will and fucking Grace! (pointing to Matt) You're Will, (pointing to me) and you're Grace. Am I right?
(Liz and I laugh ourselves almost pantless.)
Moe (to Matt): Are you gay? I'm not, but I'm cool with it if you are.
(Eventually gets dragged into cab by friend.)

Okay, yes, you kind of had to be there, but ha! anyway. Liz decided that that made Piers Jack ("Just Jack! Purely Piers!"), but I decided I'd rather be Karen. So who's Rosario?

Beany, we hardly knew ye.

2005-08-26T23:28:00.000+08:00

It's official. My car is dead. The beautiful Mighty Bean, long-lived, much-vaunted, has finally shuffled off his mortal 'Desert Sands' veneer and gone to Car Heaven (aka my grandfather's backyard). Oh, the things he must've seen! The drunken teenagers in the backseat! The piles of books on the floors! The illicit items in the glovebox! But he obviously didn't see that red light in September 2001, or that cop car in May 2005. Whoops.

I've been driving our old family car, a 1987 Subaru, for the last week, in an attempt to re-learn manual driving skillz. I have a manual license, but only drove one for about 2 weeks, 4 years ago. So it's been pretty bumpy. And stall-y. And life-threateningly dangerous. I've nicknamed him 'Kojak', because he doesn't have any upholstery left on his roof, and he really likes lollipops.

This is in preparation for the arrival of our bouncing new baby: Suzuki Swift, 2005, manual, black, sharing with brother. Oh yeah, he's flashy. All the bells and whistles. CD player. Airbags. Cup holders. Tires. The works.

But it'll never replace my Bean: the awkward family sedan-sized front seats; the scratchy radio that was always at least 10 decibels louder in the backseat; the old, lefty bumper stickers ("Say no to Bush in 2004!"); the leaky windows; the callouses I got from trying to start the damn thing; the way he refused to be stolen, even after getting broken into several times ... the list goes on.

Even at the end, when his health was failing, he tried to rally his strength. His left headlight would occasionally flicker bravely. Sometimes I didn't need a scarf to turn the key in the ignition. His handbrake never failed once, and was a fine stand-in for the real brakes.

So in a final tribute to my car-away-from-home, I consider

Things My 1972 Toyota Corolla and Jesus Had in Common:

1. They both lived to 33.
2. They both had holes in their sides.
3. Some atheists doubt the existence of my car, and think that if it did exist, it was probably just a historical preacher.
4. Jesus turned water into wine; my car turned brake fluid into stains on the garage.
5. They both resurrected after 3 days, but are DEFINITELY dead now.

Now I need a name for the new car. Any suggestions?

Some more than others.

2005-08-24T23:37:00.000+08:00

One turntable and no microphone

2005-08-23T09:18:00.000+08:00

I finally found a stylus!

This is terrific, I can finally listen to my dad's old Cat Stevens vinyl. Has there even been music made since Tea for the Tillerman?

A bird in the bin is worth 2 baby quails in the aviary.

2005-08-19T22:49:00.000+08:00

The following stories come from my brother, affectionately known as Doofus, but since he seems to have given up on his blogging endeavours, he has kindly allowed me to relate them to you on my own piece of surreal estate.

[Background: My brother works as a salesman at a guitar shop. As a junior, he is required to do some things that would not normally be included in a salesman's job description, like cleaning toilets. Another of his tasks is to empty the bins in the store. His bosses, the store owners, live above the shop. They have an aviary in the backyard in which they keep quails. The big outdoor bin is located next to the aviary.]

So, today, my brother is performing his bin-emptying duties, dumping the contents of the indoor bin into the outside bin. Out pour all the items one might expect to find in a bin in a guitar shop: receipts *flutter*, tissues *flutter*, empty boxes *flutter*, a dead quail *flutter THUNK* ... A dead quail? Somehow, among the discarded band notices "seeking a bass player whose influences include the Beatles and Good Charlotte" and the rejected picks, there is a rotting member of the guitar shop household.

Doofus nonchalantly asks his boss if he happens to have noticed that a quail was absent at that morning's roll call.

"Oh, is that where it went?" replies his boss. "I meant to eat it."

So, as far as I can tell, this guy noticed the quail was dead, brought it inside the shop with the intention of cooking a sumptuous roast, got distracted by a western suburbs teenager playing "Smoke on the Water" for the eighth time that day, and placed the bird on the counter above the bin. Someone then either noticed the bird and put it in the bin, or it was accidentally swept off the counter.

What a madcap industry is the guitar shop business!

And that's not all, my friends, oh no. There is more intrigue in the guitar shop aviary than in all of Salem. Ma Quail, who apparently includes Medea in her list of influences, seems to be lacking in motherly instinct. Not only did she stomp on one of her children, squishing in his tiny little head, but on Wednesday night, a particularly chilly eve, she abandoned her maternal post to seek a bit of "me time" in other corners of the aviary. As a result, when the boss checked on Ma's brood the next morning, he found four little Walt Disneys. Without their mother's body heat, the tiny Steggles Quails had frozen.

Obviously deciding the baby quails were too small to enjoy for breakfast, the boss tried to thaw them out using a hair dryer. Amazingly, not only did 3 of the 4 quails survive this ordeal, but all of their feathers came out more shiny and manageable.

Since then, Ma "Lindy Chamberlain" Quail has gone on another murderous rampage, stepping on and killing one of her remaining three issue. I think she has to be implicated in the death of the first quail. A few too many "accidents" in this aviary of death if you ask me.

And then there were two. I'll keep you posted on any further developments.

If you ain't DUTCH you ain't MUCH!

2005-08-18T14:10:00.000+08:00

Mail time! I got a postcard from Louise-in-Holland

And a letter on a brown paper bag from Piers, hinting at future presents, as well as including a copy of his recently-purchased 80s music compilation.

And it turns out I didn't drop $25 in a stormy gutter yesterday. Golden day!

Egg suckin dawgs

2005-08-17T22:34:00.000+08:00

Reidy is a hatsmoker!

2005-08-17T00:07:00.000+08:00

Hey, we came second in the quiz tonight! Carton of Becks! I'm going to build a trophy case!

Luckily I use my powers for good.

2005-08-15T14:34:00.000+08:00

I have a really good terrorism strategy (as in, to wage, not to fight against) but for fear of being targeted by ASIO, or for inspiring ne'er-do-wells, I will not post it. Interested parties can subscribe to my newsletter.

'Fuck the terrorist'

2005-08-15T08:49:00.000+08:00

On a youth hostel on Beaufort St.

Liz has an admirer!

2005-08-12T16:49:00.000+08:00

On a little sticker on the rubbish bin outside Supavalu on Beaufort St. Oh, wherefore art thou, Romeo?

Here fishy fishy fishy

2005-08-11T15:10:00.000+08:00

The koi pond outside the politics lecture theatre at UWA:

All the koi were swimming in the one little strip of sunlight. Must've been like a hot tub for them.

Thanks for the heads-up.

2005-08-10T19:28:00.000+08:00

*chugga chugga*
"Hey, Bob, you hear somethin'?"
*chugga chugga chugga chugga*
"Gee, I wonder what that noise could be ... wait, you see somethin' written here?"
*whoosha whoosha WOOT WOOT*
"Says 'Look out for-"
*WHOOOOOOSH SQOOOOOSH SHHHHHHHH*

We won!

2005-08-08T15:03:00.000+08:00

After weeks of trailing the game at 6th or 8th place, Liz, Briony, Fred, and I finally got a prize at the Carnegies Quiz Night. Third place, baby! $30 voucher for Carnegies! That's a round of drinks next quiz night!

Our team name, which you can barely make out in this photo, was 'We put the bop in the bop-shoo-bop-shoo-bop'.

Particularly spectacular gets:
Fred - 'I Run' by Flock of Seagulls [music round]
Liz - 'Trouble' by Shampoo [music round]
Briony - kept getting the answers right and getting shouted down, eg. she knew there were 7 submariners in the Russian mini-sub, but we wrote 15 anyway.

On a power box

2005-08-06T11:40:00.000+08:00

Things I Have Learnt About Myself From Internet Quizzes

2005-08-04T13:40:00.000+08:00

My financial theme song is "She Works Hard for the Money"

My inner rock star is Faith Hill

My most positive energy is flowing from my Second Chakra

Freud would say my strongest unconscious conflict stems from events that happened when I was an infant

I'm a raccoon in the wild world of love

My cat's type is 'mugger'

My celebrity match is John Cusack

My teen celebrity match is Freddie Prinze Jnr

My celebrity chef match is Emeril Lagasse

My TV family is the Jetsons

I am secretly Texan when it comes to history

I am a TDI Volkswagon beetle

Grammar APB

2005-08-04T00:15:00.000+08:00

In the spirit in which this blog was initially intended (ie. to correct Matt's grammar and spelling, a point I have since given up*, since there're just too many to post and I figure he'll never learn), I post this appalling blight on our collective consciousness:

This is a picture of one of the t-shirts for sale at the Margaret River Chocolate Company factory. Surely someone, in the lengthy process of designing the t-shirt and printing the t-shirt, would have picked this error? It's not even just a mistake like confusing 'your' and 'you're', which is in itself an unforgivable sin, but something so common amongst illiterate 'tards as to be forseeable.

No! I am henceforth boycotting all Margaret River Chocolate Company products. This isn't exactly a huge stretch, but it's symbolic. Join me, and we'll send a message. Or better yet, go down to Margaret River and take as many of the free chocolate buttons as you can. Stuff your pockets. Line your coats. Throw them in the air and dance around under a chocolate rainbow. Damn the man!

*Should this be "a point up which I have since given"? Damn preposition rule!

It wasn't just a fairy tale!

2005-08-03T16:12:00.000+08:00

It's true! The myth of the beer tree is no myth, but reality.

From Becks to EB, this magical tree provides for all tastes. I salute the scientists who were not drawn to cancer research or finding a cure for AIDS, but instead devoted their time to other noble pursuits. And props to the open-minded city councillors who decided that this tree was far more appropriate on city footpaths than those boring little elms.

What's next? A merlot bush? A chardonnay shrub? A kebab vine?

Let's get quizzical! Yes, I do hate myself.

2005-07-31T15:32:00.000+08:00

I randomly stumbled across a site that lets you run your own quiz tournament from your blog EVERY DAY. So now all 5 of my readers can test their useless knowledge skillz and maybe even prep a bit for Quiz Night Tuesdays at Carnegies. Shotgun the person with the highest score getting on my team.

http://www.funtrivia.com/private/main.cfm?tid=31064

The link will be up permanently somewhere conspicuous. Happy time-wasting!

What will they think of next?

2005-07-26T19:12:00.000+08:00

mcsweeney's
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

The latest McSweeney's Quarterly comes with a comb. Dave Eggers is one of my husbands.

Harry, you dog

2005-07-25T21:48:00.000+08:00

In a shout-out to Harry Potter slash fic fans, ridiculopathy.com has published a (satirical) article on hidden porn in the latest Harry Potter book. Apparently, young fans have managed to unlock "hardcore scat porn" in Chapter 18 5/8, aka the "Slytherin orgy sequence".

... young readers say the unlocked pages help bind the story together. At a marathon public reading of the book in Boston, the room reportedly grew very quiet as the reader described the part when Hermione finally lets down her guard and allows Ron to explore her Chamber of Secrets, a true victory for literature and the English language.

"I had a hard time with some of the longer words," said one young boy. "I showed it to my mom. I said 'what does c-u-n-i-l-i-n-g-u-s [sic] mean?' and she took the book from me and won't give it back. She said she threw it out, but that's not true because I snuck past their bedroom late last night and heard her reading it to dad."

The big surprise in this book is not, as rumoured, the death of a central character, but the revelation of a hook-up between Snape and Harry's mother, which is apparent in the slash scene involving Snape and Harry when Snape mentions that Harry performs a certain act "in much the same way as Lily did".

Oh, and Hermione and Ginny hook up as well.

This is certainly more exciting than my less-than-satisfactory attempts to find homo-erotic subtext in earlier Potter books. ("Hand me my wand, Ron," said Harry.)

I'm sure there's several Potter porn movies, but just in case any directors are looking for titles for future projects, here are my suggestions:

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Bone

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secretes (that one was porny enough in its original form, though)

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Ass-kaban

Harry Potter and the STD of Fire (It burns! It burns!)

Harry Potter and the Order of the Dominatrix

Harry Potter and the Full-of-Blood Prince Albert (props to Doofus on that one)

I want to hear all your versions as well - best one will get a mystery prize!

Round like a record

2005-07-25T21:34:00.000+08:00

Vinyl sale at Planet Video. I got these last week, and have yet to listen to most of them because I've broken my stylus, but no doubt aural pleasure awaits.

$5 each for:

Disorient - A side 'Monday Michiru', B side 'Social Material'
Monsieur Dubois - 'S'amuse'
Beastie Boys - 'The Negotiation Limerick File' (with the live video version of 'Three MCs and One DJ', as well as a remix of 'Putting Shame in Your Game')
Deadly Avenger - 'Deep Red'
Daft Punk - 'Robot Rock'
Beats and Pieces - 'Members Only' (which I only got because it's bright, translucent orange, and I figured if it sucked it would look pretty on my wall)

Back in black, baby, and also a kicky shade of red.

2005-07-25T21:12:00.000+08:00

My interstate friends are back interstate, and so I return to the friend of the friendless, the internets. Expect a blogging deluge, especially since I'm back at uni and have a whole new semesters' worth of work to avoid.

East side/West side

2005-07-15T15:38:00.000+08:00

We didn't see any New York violence, so we decided to make some ourselves.

"Just stay on your side, biaaaatch! Yeah, I'm talking to yoo! Don't make me come over there!"

Boogie on down.

2005-07-14T14:55:00.000+08:00

Sorry for lack of posts, my dear, dear, dear acquaintances, but I have been hosting a couple of friends at my place and we've been far too busy doing exciting Perth-type things to allow me time on my 'puter. But my party is on Saturday! So don't be like this guy:

Be there or be elsewhere.

Tam-tams in my jim-jams

2005-07-11T08:51:00.000+08:00

Tam-tams in Montreal are legendary. Basically a hippie convention every Sunday in summer, thousands of people head to the park, take drugs, and dance around while beating drums. Or they juggle. Or sell the same hippie shit you find at the Freo markets, including didgeridoos. Or they climb stuff. Or they just sit in the grass and look at the sky, and wave their hands in front of their faces, all mystical-like.

Of course, such a gathering is fertile ground for observing some people's less-than-fortunate selection of hippie garb.

I hope euthanasia is legal by the time I'm old. My clause will read: "Life support is to be switched off when the subject is (a) entirely incapacitated in a vegetative state (b) in a coma of more than 5 years' duration or (c) takes to wearing natty vests and finger-cymbals while gyrating in public."

But I don't care what anyone says, granny. You shake your thang like it's nobody's business.

Head not for sale.

2005-07-10T22:43:00.000+08:00

She's not that kind of girl.

***UPDATE***
I just noticed the price tag behind her head.

I like to contribute.

2005-07-10T22:33:00.000+08:00

I especially liked the bit about what people you knew who had different professions. Since I know so few people who actually have professions, and the option 'student slacker' wasn't available, I felt very Nigel NoFriends. But that's cool, the internets keeps me amused. People who need people are rarely the happiest people, Streisand. They just didn't have broadband.

Haiku Review: War of the Worlds

2005-07-08T19:15:00.000+08:00

I'm back, baby, and like Bill Hicks I'm a little dark poet. So, War of the Worlds:

Am I watching Deep
Impact? Armageddon? I
D4? Do I care?

Out of a possible $1.23 per litre for petrol, I would go see this movie on a 97 cent day.

London is Burning

2005-07-08T16:31:00.000+08:00

Bonnie is okay, and so is Louise, who was in London but stayed inside all day to clean the flat. That just leaves Razi unaccounted for at the moment, but since he was last heard from in Leeds, I am sure he is okay - Raziman, if you hear me, holla back!

Working girl, in the non-hoooker sense

2005-07-08T08:12:00.000+08:00

Sorry for lack of updates, am actually doing a few honest days' work (!), but will be back to unemployment ASAP.

Also, since I am the worst organiser in the history of the world, if you didn't already know my party was on Saturday 16 July, then it is, and you do now. Anyone who reads this is invited. If I know you, but you don't think I have your address to send you an invite, email me at fruski@goggo.com or leave me a message.

Piccadilly Razi

2005-07-05T12:55:00.000+08:00

Razi is in London! Globetrotter, get yourself to Australia, pronto.

Jefferson lives!

2005-07-04T18:44:00.000+08:00

In honour of the American day of Independence, I'm gonna recount a little narrative. Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States and chief author of the Declaration of Independence, lay on his deathbed on the 4 July, 1826, exactly 50 years to the day of the signing of the Declaration. On the other side of town, John Adams, the second President of the United States and longtime friend and political combatant of Jefferson, also lay dying, unaware of Jefferson's own fast-approaching mortality. His last words, uttered as Jefferson was also drawing his own last breath?

"Jefferson lives!"

Well, actually, no, he didn't, but nice try.

Jefferson's last words? "Is it the Fourth? I resign my spirit to God, my daughter, and my country."

I'm sure we also have some good stories about Australia's 'founding midwives' but I'm also equally sure that no one really ever bothers to recount them. I'm a-gonna hunt them anecdotes down.

Oh, and it was Canada Day on the 1 July, for our friend in the region. But since that was originally called 'Dominion Day', it's not quite as exciting.

Putting on the Ritz

2005-07-03T22:22:00.000+08:00

Hey there cats and kittens, sure you all heard about the swell whoopee at the old juice joint of the Big Cheese himself, copacetic, baby. The bee's knees, the cat's meow AND pyjamas, lots of people splifficated, corked, tanked, primed, jazzed, owled, embalmed, lit, ossified, and fried to the hat. Don't believe me? It was the Real McCoy, baby, with the pictures to prove it.

Can we get a bit of privacy, please?

2005-07-01T23:14:00.000+08:00

Can we get a bit of privacy, please?
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

Do you mind? We're just trying to have a bath, fully dressed, on the back of a ute, in the middle of the street here. Get away, and take that video camera with you, pervert.

Rubber duckie, you're the one ... you make bathtime lots of fun ...

My real bookshelf cost more than this car.

2005-07-01T00:09:00.000+08:00

bookshelf on wheels
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

Things I am proud to have on my bookshelf:

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

a French-language edition of Alice in Wonderland

Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters (J D Salinger) first edition

Things I am not proud to have on my bookshelf:

the New Woman 'It's your Bite-Sized Body Book!' (free with a New Woman magazine, circa 2001)

Baton Twirling is for Me by Jim Hawkins

an Alex Lloyd CD

My car is not actually the bookshelf I'm referring to. I just gotta clean it sometime. You can't even see in this picture all the clothes and books that are piled on the back seat.

Agony Alaina: Wake up

2005-06-29T16:48:00.000+08:00

Dear Agony Alaina,
Due to 3 and a half years of an arts degree, i have trouble getting up before 11am. Please help.
Cathy

Dear Cathy,
Did you say 'arts degree'? Don't worry about waking up earlier, then. Just ask McDonald's if they'll put you on a later shift.
Regards,
Agony Alaina.

All agonies can be sent to fruski@goggo.com or left in any message section.

Haiku Review: George Lucas' student films

2005-06-29T12:48:00.000+08:00

Liz, Briony and I went to the second night of Luna's screening of shorts from the St Kilda Film Festival. Afterwards, they showed a series of films done by some famous directors when they were still in film school. Zemickis, the guy who runs Pixar now, and, of course, George Lucas, were all in there.

George, the postmodern
schtick is not your bag. Stick to
spaceships and ewoks.

Good god, how anyone gave this man a camera and the money to make Star Wars after seeing that is anyone's guess. A big "What the hell?" out of 5.

Agony Alaina: The Beginning

2005-06-27T16:45:00.000+08:00

We live in troubled times. War, famine, pestilence, the American remake of The Office, all have challenged our understanding of the world around us. In the spirit of, you know, humanity, thererefore, I have decided to include, in my otherwise shamelessly solipsistic web space, a question and answer forum. Ask, and ye shall receive pithy yet engaging advice. Or mockery, depending on my mood. No topic, no matter how sordid or illegal, will be off limits. How exciting!

To get the party rolling, I'm going to paraphrase a real question that was sent in to the Sunday Times' 'Body + Soul' liftout:

Dear Sunday Times' 'Body + Soul' liftout,
I am pregnant with twin boys. My religious husband wants to call them Rod and Todd. What should I do?
Sincerely, Fatty McGee.

Dear Fatty,
Clearly your husband wishes you dead. Everyone knows that the mother of Rod and Todd, Maude Flanders, was killed by a t-shirt cannon. I think you've got bigger problems than that of what to call your spawn. Get out of this loveless marriage now before your husband murders you as you sleep. He's already fantasising about the attractive animated lead singer of a Christian country'n'western band.
Best wishes, Agony Alaina.

To send in a question, either leave it in the message section of this or any other post, or email fruski@goggo.com. I'm here to help.

Big Brother sex boobs dick poo

2005-06-25T09:50:00.000+08:00

It seems that just by posting something about Big Brother, no matter how derogatory, it means that I get a few hits from search engines. Ha. Sorry person from Italy who was looking for sites on 'sexy+Michelle+Carew' and instead got something about pigs and bikinis and poohs in a bedroom. But hey, it boosts up my stat counter, so I'm giving the people what they want:

Arse ass asshole balls bastard bum butt boner dick dildo fart hump ho penis sex sexy tits vagina wank whore x-rated

Yes, there are some obvious words missing, but I like to leave a bit of mystery. Happy googling!

Somebody stop me!

2005-06-22T22:15:00.000+08:00

Q. Why did the leprechaun wear two condoms?

A. To be sure, to be sure.

Someone left a pooh in my room

2005-06-22T00:51:00.000+08:00

pooh
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

I got home about half an hour ago, snuck upstairs quietly so I didn't wake up anyone else in the house, and opened my bedroom door.

I stifled a shriek. Pooh and Piglet, almost lifesize, waved back at me.

So, in the few hours I was out, someone had come into my room, positioned Pooh and Piglet to greet me as I came in, and presumably giggled to themselves until they went to sleep.

It's not really that much of a mystery. I'm assuming it was my brother, though I haven't seen him in a day or two and I have no idea from where he got a Pooh.

It's like a psychotic twist on the friendly ceramic animals in the backyard theme. Until you come home to find a Pooh waving at you in your bedroom, you have not known the real meaning of terror.

****UPDATE********
A big sorry is owed to the good people who work at Hoyts, who are now sans-Pooh. I'm still not quite sure how he smuggled it out of there, but yes, Doofus did steal the Perth Hoyts Pooh. Plus, not only did he put it in my room AGAIN tonight, but he purposely turned down the dimmer on my light switch so that when I did turn on the light, I would only be able to make out a dim, menacing shadow. A little bit too much thought went into this. I'll get him back. Suggestions?

Things that are not as serious as a heart attack

2005-06-21T19:05:00.000+08:00

Stubbed toe

Acne

An Adam Sandler movie

Heartburn

A day in the life of an exam invigilator

2005-06-20T11:53:00.000+08:00

7am - wake up.
7.10am - put on ugliest jumper in the world.
7.20am - brew coffee.
7.30am - eat own children.
7.45am - do crossword.

8.15am - drive to UWA.
8.30am - stay inside the warm exam room; look mockingly at students shivering outside.
8.50am - open exam room doors; reluctantly let in students.
8.55am - rattle off inane instructions.

9am - start exam with all the enthusiasm of a sadistic executioner.
9.15am - start another crossword.
9.35am - slurp tea.
9.52am - ignore student's waving arm; chat to neighbour.
10.07am - start knitting.
10.42am - acknowledge student's arm waving; take as long as humanly possible to give them an extra exam book; forget little piece of string to tie exam books together; go all the way back to the front of the room to get little piece of string; finally give student extra exam book and little piece of string.

11am - announce that there are 10 minutes of the exam remaining; experience schadenfreude.
11.10am - announce the end of the exam; order pens put down; get into heated debate with girl who wrote her name on the exam booklet AFTER you ordered pens down; complain loudly about "kids these days" and mutter "no respect".
11.13am - collect exam papers slowly and laboriously; count them; lose track; count again.
11.20am - reluctantly let students out.
11.25am - discuss crosswords with other invigilators; lament the ignorance of "kids these days".

11.30am - collect paycheck for a hard day's work.
11.40am - drive home; stop to get milk.
11.52am - run over neighbour's dog in driveway; deposit it over another neighbour's fence.

12pm - eat dinner.
2.30pm - Days of Our Lives
3pm - bed.

My name is

2005-06-20T07:18:00.000+08:00

Just call me Queen Shit the Stupendous.

every excuse is a death.

2005-06-19T19:41:00.000+08:00

every excuse is a death.
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

People who possibly would have done worse than me in the Equity exam if they had sat it, and reasons why

2005-06-18T18:33:00.000+08:00

My cousin Noah (two years old)

Sir Isaac Newton (dead)

Miss Piggy (no opposable thumbs)

Stephen Daedalus (ficitonal character)

Jessica Simpson (idiot)

Fun for all the family

2005-06-18T00:40:00.000+08:00

obelix goatse
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

You are old.

2005-06-16T21:28:00.000+08:00

you are old.
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

In case no one else was feeling the creaking hip of old age zimmerframing its way towards them, here is a site to put everything into perspective.

21, eh? What, a few years of uni? A bit of travel? Where's your sonata, then? Where's your discovery of laughing gas?

Christ, by my age, Steve Jobs had started Apple Computer. I can't even scrounge up the money to buy an iPod.

Man, I'm going to do so well in my Equity exam.

2005-06-15T22:51:00.000+08:00

Watch a woman drawn from the inside out.

This site give you some information about your date of birth, and also what your full name says about you. Bullshit, yes, but really, really accurate.

What method of suicide is best for you? I should, apparently, blow my head off with a gunshot through the brain. Obviously these people have never heard of waiting periods.

Answer the questions in this quiz to see which philosopher best matches your own beliefs. I was pretty cynical about this at first, but I'm going to look into it a bit more.

Sunrise, sunset

2005-06-15T15:30:00.000+08:00

eiffel
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

A year ago *sigh* a year ago. And all I have now is the memory and the debt.

And, naturally, grand plans. Grand plans. I will travel once again. First, down south, then Melbourne, then the world!

Want to contribute? Email fruski@goggo.com for details.

2005-06-14T22:28:00.000+08:00

What a schizo day.

Ceramic blessings

2005-06-14T22:27:00.000+08:00

ceramic blessings
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

I just read this postcard on PostSecret. What synchronicity. Serendipity. I'm sure there is a word in another language that is untranslatable and fits perfectly.

So either this is a postcard from the person that left the ceramic animals in mish's yard, or someone read this card and was inspired. Or someone thought of it purely by chance, and more than one person in the world had this idea at once. Or it's the start of a beautiful random ceramic blessings movement. I'm onboard. All of those potential reasons make me happy.

Haiku Review: I Heart Huckabees

2005-06-14T15:42:00.000+08:00

existentialis-
m is a big word and this
movie is too long.

3.5 stars. 4, if i'm in a mood.

Uni is playing silly buggers with a whole new student number/registration thing, right in the middle of exams. Morons. So I can't access my course materials. Well, shucks, that sure gets in the way of my studyin' spirit.

Sunshine, lollipops, etc.

2005-06-14T11:23:00.000+08:00

ceramic duck
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

Okay, the last post was a little negative. An accurate representation of my feelings about the whole thing, but a bit of a downer. Humanity still exists. I'm going to borrow a story from Mish (I hope she doesn't mind) which brightened my day on Saturday.

Mish lives in a little red house. The backyard is overgrown and flowery in an enchanted garden kind of way; there is a little clearing of tree stumps and fallen logs towards the back, near the shed. One night, Mish and her roommates wandered out to find that SOMEONE had left a semicircle of ceramic animals (kind of like Monsieur Waddles over here) arranged on the stumps and logs. They have no idea who did it. Someone just came and left a bunch of ceramic cartoon characters and went on their merry way, without making a deal of it, or wanting recognition, or anything.

To the person who did this, thank you. I don't ever want to know who you are or why you did it. But your existence and these ceramic animals cancel out both reality tv and Paris Hilton in the great karmic world of rightness.

I'm so depressed.

2005-06-14T10:51:00.000+08:00

The "Today" section in The West Australian, Monday 13 June:

Former Kalgoorlie skimpy barmaid Michelle Carew-Gibson and shearer Glenn Dallinger appear to be the first housemates to have had sex on Australian Big Brother.

There is nothing about that sentence that doesn't make me want to vomit up my gall bladder just so i can spray bile all over it. Animals! And people actually watch this shit, watch it, want it to happen? Fucking rats in a cage. Fuck.

Big Brother executive producer Kris Noble defended the decision to select young, single housemates. "I don't think you have to be a rocket scientist to know this show is absolutely about relationships," he said. "You want to watch people have relationships. I wanted uninhibited people because I didn't want coyness."

It's a circus. I'd despair for humanity, but I don't think it even exists. We're all just wild pigs with electricity and bikinis.

Llama drama

2005-06-12T21:25:00.000+08:00

llama
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

Llama

2005-06-12T21:24:00.000+08:00

dalai lama
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

Dalai Lama

2005-06-12T21:23:00.000+08:00

britney and llama
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

Britney and llama

Haiku Review: Mr and Mrs Smith

2005-06-12T16:30:00.000+08:00

I'm going to review things. In haiku. Haiku review. First up, Mr and Mrs Smith:

Jolie t and a,
bombs, and three funny lines does
not a True Lies make.

2 and a half stars. Hey, wasn't Jon Voight in True Lies? No, wait, that was Mission Impossible. Damn, that might've been a thing.

Me and John Lithgow go way back.

2005-06-12T12:15:00.000+08:00

The dog in the background is John Lithgow's dog. We also go way back.

Daddy I don't want to go to school / cos the teacher's a jerk, he must think I'm a fool

2005-06-11T12:57:00.000+08:00

Things I remembered to take to my Property Law exam:

Some Property Law notes
A Property Law textbook
A cup of coffee

Things I did not remember to take to my Property Law exam:

A pen
My brain

Just call her Maddy from the block

2005-06-10T09:25:00.000+08:00

Maddy in J-Lo onesy
Originally uploaded by ... an art, like everything else.

At Globe the other day, when the man sitting at the table next to me asked me The Question.

"Would you be more likely to buy Jennifer Lopez leisure wear online or at Myer?"

Now, I ain't exactly the J-Lo velour tracksuit-wearing type, but the man asked a question, and I answered honestly.

"I think you'd definitely have a market in Perth."

It's just a shame I didn't have this photo of Maddy in the changerooms at Winners on me. Be prepared to see these babies in a few months parading through Forest Chase, requisite ugly furry boots and platinum blonde hair attached.

Blogger technology + exam time = a heady cocktail

2005-06-09T22:05:00.000+08:00

A couple of university professors were sitting out on their verandah, contemplating the sunset. They talked of many things: of science and technology; of art and literature; of philosophy and politics. One professor asked the other, "Say, have you read Marx?" to which the other replied, "Yes I do, aren't these cane chairs murder?"